


Treading a Thin Line

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Sex, Dancing, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-16
Updated: 2006-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's AU, it's based on "Helter Skelter," and it is love.  There needs to be more Dom/Beanie in this world, but ultimately a Dom/Lijah.  Didn't have time to get a beta, so apologies for that, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treading a Thin Line

"All right, so I want you to take a ballet fourth at centre stage, Elijah, left foot forward. No, turned more downstage, like you're prepping for a pirouette. Good, good… and then on the beat here, the violin solo comes in, and you're going to _snap_ to stage left, right foot stays crossed tight, on relevé, arms out 90 degrees, palms flat, and about 30 degrees back. Orlando, I want you lunging on your right foot, facing Elijah, one hand at his lower back and the other at his shoulder blades. Everybody got that? Let's make it a nice, dramatic dip… I want 'punk tango,' not 'country club'…"

Dominic Monaghan, choreographer for the all-male London jazz and modern company, Thin Line, was the "next big thing" in the British dance community. He had been called everything from "a little weird" to "brilliant and innovative with a postmodern twist" by the reviewers, but any press was good press. Almost the entire upcoming season was booked, which meant that the next two weeks of rehearsals really had to count for something, and Monaghan was going harder on his dancers than usual.

Of course, he knew that the dancers could take it. His two principals, Orlando Bloom and Elijah Wood, were a couple of the hardest working dancers he had met, and more importantly were very invested in this company. Orlando had been the first he had recruited to the cause, a wonderful ballet dancer since his teenage years, but "burned out" according to the papers by twenty-three. Ballet was a harsh discipline, though, and Dominic knew that Orlando didn't belong in the corps of a ballet company. In addition to his grace and physical strength, the young man happened to have a brilliant imagination, a ton of energy, and plenty of passion, which was just what Dominic needed for his slightly risky venture into an all-male company.

Elijah Wood, twenty-three year old dancer from the Midwest of the United States, never would have ended up at the company if it weren't for his own initiative. When Monaghan was recruiting for a second principal, Elijah was nineteen and studying music in college. He loved to dance, and was an excellent jazz dancer, but his university didn't even offer dance as a major. He was the only guy in the minor track, and was very used to bullying and teasing from his fellow students and his family. Most of his support came from the girls in the department who respected his abilities and encouraged him, and from some of the music professors, but his parents had disowned their 'disgraceful homosexual ballerina son' and by sophomore year, he was running out of money for tuition.

It was luck, really, that made him look at the announcements bulletin board outside one of the dance studios. A very small advert, clipped from a magazine, announced auditions for a company in London, an all-male jazz and modern dance company that was being started by a very young British choreographer and would feature live music at its performances—not by an orchestra, but by a group of performers which included fiddle, percussion, and electric guitars. Though he couldn't audition on his own steam, Elijah sent a seven-page letter to Monaghan with his story, and a tape of himself doing a jazz routine to a piano and percussion number he had composed himself. Two weeks later, he received an advance check and a plane ticket in the mail.

The company's fourth season was highly anticipated for a somewhat controversial reason that Monaghan tended not to comment on. The most-talked about piece of the season had never been seen by a reviewer, and was kept somewhat mysterious both by the choreographer and the dancers. All that was known for sure about the piece was that it was structured like a ballet; it included a number of styles such as a jazz tango, a street jazz group number, and a modern section done to a medley of popular indie music; and—most shockingly—it was a gay love story.

Dominic hated to play to stereotypes. He didn't want to advertise this as "the most shocking use of popular dance in our time" himself, because he didn't think it was. It was just a story, like any other story, except that it was gay. He himself was bisexual, but he never put much stock in labels. He knew Elijah was particularly excited about this, if a little frightened, because of his background, and he wanted to give the young dancer a chance to dance a representation of something he could at least marginally relate to. If truth be told, Elijah was the inspiration for this piece, but Dominic wouldn't have told that to anyone.

When Elijah arrived in London, he was little more than a wide-eyed kid. In fact, the choreographer had half a mind to send him on the first plane home, but when he got Elijah in the studio he realized that the kid, no matter how frightened, was like liquid fire when he moved, and he couldn't afford _not_ to have Elijah Wood in his company. Over the next couple of years, Elijah really blossomed. It seemed that everything in London excited him, and a bit of this excitement rubbed off. Dom and Elijah became good friends outside of work, and there was a certain joy in showing Elijah all the sights that had become old hat in five years of living in the city.

Now, rehearsing for what could be the defining piece of his career, a story of love through dance in which he starred opposite Orlando, it was clear that Elijah had grown up. His figure was still slight, too short for ballet, but he now had a confidence in life that translated clearly to his dancing. His hair was cut close in a buzz cut, and his arms were almost as defined as his legs from time spent at the gym. Dom smiled to himself as the two of them got the tango almost completely right on the first try, and looked at his watch. Six thirty.

"All right gentlemen, I think we can call it a day. The corps is doing the city number first thing tomorrow morning, so I won't need the two of you till eleven."

Orlando grinned and ran over to where Dom stood at the front of the studio, giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek before heading off to the dressing rooms. Elijah just rolled his eyes in Dom's direction and waited for him while he spoke with the musicians who were packing up in the corner.

Elijah had initially been living in Dom's flat near Hyde Park as a temporary arrangement, but as they became close friends and it was clear that they did well living together, Dom permanently offered the room to Elijah. Elijah was quite grateful, as paying half the rent on the flat still gave him a bit left over from his decent salary at the company. Dom knew that Elijah hadn't been all that well off back in the States, working several jobs to support himself through Uni, and he secretly hoped that Elijah would finish up his degree at some point in London if he could.

Elijah didn't talk much about the States or his school there, and Dom knew it was a painful topic, but Dom would see him from time to time curled up on the couch with a sheaf of staff paper, penciling in compositions that he would later tinker with on the keyboard Dom had bought him for Christmas his first year in London. From what Dom knew of music, he thought Elijah was quite good, but then he was no expert. If Elijah ever stopped dancing, Dom would offer him the chance to compose scores for the company in a heartbeat, but that was neither here nor there.

Dom caught up with Elijah outside the dressing room where the young man was just shrugging into his old leather jacket. "Hey, do you want Thai or pizza tonight?"

"Actually, I meant to tell you, a few of the girls from home are in town for the weekend and I was going to meet them for dinner out. The Iowa dance department's doing a trip or something… do you want to come along?"

"No, that's okay. You have fun."

"Okay. I might be back late, just so you know."

"Yeah, it's cool. I'll probably go to the pub or something."

"You do that. Don't get too drunk now."

"Yes mum."

Elijah grinned and cuffed Dom upside the head. They both went their separate ways.

 

"Oh bloody cunting _hell!_"

Dom turned slowly to his left, more amused than angry at the man's outburst, and took a slow sip of whisky as he contemplated his next move. The bloke was in enough of an outrage that any sensible person's reaction would be to back away quickly, but Dom wasn't always a sensible person. The man was tall, almost distinguished looking in a white dress shirt (sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone), grey trousers, and a Rolex, and bloody gorgeous. Of course, he was also screaming at the telly, which said little for his sanity at the moment, but Dom didn't mind hedging his bets.

"Rough match," he commented, sympathetically, sliding the shot of whisky that the bartender had just poured down to the other man. "Looks like you need this more than I do."

The man smiled, almost apologetically, and took the drink. "Thanks, mate. I'm not usually so vocal, it's just that Sheffie lost, and…" The man shrugged. Dom smiled.

"Dominic Monaghan."

"Sean Bean. It's a pleasure, mate." He sat down at the barstool next to Dom, turning his body at a 45-degree angle so that their knees almost touched. "So what is it you do when you're not buying drinks for sodding pathetic blokes whose teams can't play footie for shite?"

Dom grinned as the bartender passed him another shot for himself. "Cheers, mate." They clinked glasses and Dom took a swallow before answering. "I'm a choreographer." He waited a beat for the inevitable wrinkling of the nose, or a less subtle "what are you, a poofter then?" It didn't come.

"Ace. And who do you choreograph for?"

"Um, I have a company. Thin Line. It's an all-male jazz and modern company," he explained.

"Ah. Sounds like something I might like to check out, if you catch my meaning," Sean replied with a wink. Dom almost choked on his whisky.

"Uh… yeah, well, we have a show coming up in two weeks. It's gotten a lot of press…"

"Oh yes, I think I actually read a short review in the Times. The gay pas-de-deux and all that, right?"

Dom grinned. Seemed tonight might just be his lucky one. "Yeah, one and the same. So what about you? What do you do for a living?"

"Oh, I'm a vice-president of a bank here in London. Bloody boring work, I'll tell you." Dom smiled sympathetically. "Hey, I've got to be honest with you; this Scotch is swill. What do you say you come back to mine and I'll pour you a glass of some good shite?"

"You don't waste any time, do you, mate?" Dom grinned. This was much more his territory.

"I know what I want when I see it," Sean explained with a shrug, downing the rest of his drink and standing. "Gets you everywhere in business."

 

Sean's flat was nice, sparsely furnished but very modern and clearly expensive. There were a few framed photos on the walls, which Dom gave the cursory glance as Sean poured their drinks.

"These are yours?" he asked as Sean stepped up behind him, sliding a glass into his hand with very little allowance for personal space. Dom didn't really mind.

"Yeah, that's Lorna and Molly, and the little one there is Evie."

"Divorced?"

"Three times."

"Damn!" Dom raised his glass, taking a sip. "That's impressive."

"That's what you get when you ignore what you really want," Sean explained with a shrug.

"And what's that?" Dom asked, his eyes a little darker as he turned and found his lips inches away from Sean's.

"I think you know the answer to that question, lad." Sean's voice was husky and sexy enough for Dom to forgive the 'lad.' Their lips met almost cautiously at first, but Dom soon got his senses about him and reached up to fist a hand in Sean's hair, pressing their bodies together from toes to lips. "You don't fuck around, do you?" Sean asked with a gasping laugh when their groins aligned and Dom rolled his hips with a practice motion.

"No," Dom replied simply, repeating the movement.

"Good. I like that," Sean replied. Dom blinked as his glass was taken from him and Sean was walking to the coffee table to deposit both drinks, but he re-gathered his wits when Sean returned, propelling him backwards to the bedroom. "I don't do hugs and kisses, just so you know," he explained as the backs of Dom's knees hit the bed, though the man could be talking about rocket science for all Dom cared, the way he kissed. "I want to fuck you. I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm not looking for a friend, even. Sorry to be blunt, but that's just the way it is."

"Fine. Fuck me, then," Dom replied, grinning cheekily and holding his arms out to the sides as if in challenge.

Sean grinned, and then he pounced.

Dom usually tried to avoid moaning within the first five to ten minutes of a sexual encounter, but in this case he was failing spectacularly. Sean didn't bother with much "leading up" to the main event, but despite his efficiency, Dom had to admit that he was quite good. He kissed with a raw heat, ridding Dom of his clothes quickly and then twisting a nipple, sucking at the hollow of Dom's neck, grinding against him until Dom was voluntarily spreading his legs up and back, his neck arched and breaths coming in pants as he waited.

"Here, lad. Get them wet for me," Sean demanded, holding out two fingers. Dom was a little skeptical—the man had to have lube _somewhere_ in this vast flat—but he wasn't one to sweat the details, and so he sucked Sean's fingers with relish, sure to get them plenty wet if that was all he was getting. Dom gasped as both fingers entered him with once, providing the stimulation he needed if not all that much finesse.

Dom was reminded, unbidden, of an image of Orlando and Elijah from rehearsals today, locked in a hard, seductive dip before winding their bodies around each other to a carefully choreographed rhythm that was both sensual and precise. His hips bucked into Sean's hand as he pictured Elijah's wide blue eyes, easy smile, and natural grace—and then he promptly banished that image from his mind. Who was he, after all, to be thinking of his best mate in the middle of sex with an incredibly attractive, successful man? Chalking it up to his natural inclination for graceful things and beauty in motion, he quickly dismissed the image and concentrated on the present, Sean's fingers stretching Dom as he lined up…

"Wait!" Dom gasped, eyes insistent. "Use a condom."

"Oh, right, sorry…" Sean looked vaguely annoyed by the interruption, and Dom frowned, but didn't press the issue, pointing to his discarded trousers and trying to relax as Sean fished the condom out and rolled it on quickly. "Good, then?"

Dom nodded, biting his lip, and arched up as Sean slid in with none too much caution, quickly hitting bottom as Dom squeezed his eyes shut and thought of England.

Okay, so it wasn't really _that_ bad. In fact, it was quite good, if one got down to the mechanics of the thing. The lubed condom provided some extra glide, and as Sean's rough thrusts began, they hit Dom's prostate each time by sheer odds—with Sean's size, and the rate and intensity at which he was moving, something had to connect. But Dom was somewhat unsettled by the fact that all the pieces were adding up—cute guy, interested in Dom, successful, good kisser, big cock—and yet there was still something missing.

As Sean quickly began to near his orgasm, grunting loudly, Dom kept his eyes closed, gripping muscled shoulders, and let his thoughts wander. Again, he went back to today's rehearsal, to Elijah's brilliant smile and the way he moved effortlessly across the studio, hitting his mark every time.

Despite how shy he had been at first, Elijah was the sort of dancer to take his risks, not just to creep up on the spot he was supposed to hit, but to _hit_ it, often close to tipping over or overshooting what he was meant to do but not quite. Elijah was a master of sucking his audience in, possessing a confidence that was just starting to blossom in life, and Dom had to admit he was addicted to it. Outside of the studio, he would never feel this way, but watching Elijah dance today, he _wanted_ that. The passion, fire, sheer energy of Elijah's movements made Dom want Elijah, and even though he was the one who had choreographed the number to produce just that reaction, he found himself trapped by his own formula.

When Sean's hand clasped around his cock, pumping hard as Sean reached his own completion, Dom imagined the sway of Elijah's hips in low-slung cargo pants as he danced unseen around their living room, arms over his head—and he came screaming.

"That good, huh?" Sean's smirk as he reached to the nightstand for a cigarette sickened Dom, interrupting his post-coital bliss, and he took the offered fag without hesitation, not sure why he was quite so annoyed. It wasn't Sean's fault that Dom had just caught himself fantasizing about a friend during sex, but Dom wasn't really in the mood for a coffee or a cuddle. After the smoke and a pee, he thanked Sean and excused himself, dressing quickly and heading out into the welcome chill of the air to fetch another pint before he went home. Dom had quite a bit of thinking to do.

 

"Who's that guy?" Elijah asked, standing at Dom's side in a crowded lobby after the big piece's opening night, the first show of the season. There was a reception for donors and the press, along with a few others, to meet the dancers, and wine and free food flowed plentifully. Dom felt a bit uncomfortable in his rather conservative suit, as the "schmoozing" part of the business had never been his favourite. Elijah had changed into street clothes—black Thin Line Company t-shirt and khaki cargo pants—but still had all his stage makeup on. The effect was odd, but not unpleasant, and Dominic found himself rather protective of his young star, especially after the not so friend-oriented thoughts he had been having about him for the past two weeks.

"Oh, him?" Dom blanched when he spotted Sean Bean sipping free champagne and chatting with a pretty woman in a cocktail dress. He looked very at home in his tailored tux, and Dom suddenly didn't want him stealing the show. "He's nobody," Dom insisted, trying to steer Elijah away. Elijah frowned and didn't move willingly.

"What? I was just wondering. He's kind of cute…" Elijah stood on tiptoe to better see the man, and Dom cursed silently when Sean turned and caught Dom's eye.

"Dominic! What a pleasure to see you again!" Dom plastered on his best fake smile as Elijah nudged his rib with an elbow and muttered quietly.

"You _know_ him?"

"You don't want to know, Elwood," Dom whispered back as Sean reached them.

"Sean, what brings you round here?" Dom asked, his body slightly tense as Sean leaned forward to hug him. He could tell that Elijah sensed his discomfort, but it wasn't the time or the place for questions.

"Just thought I'd have a look at your infamous show, Monaghan. I must say I'm impressed. And this must be your star dancer?"

Sean turned towards Elijah, and Dom felt an inexplicable urge to vomit. He wasn't sure why—Sean had been a complete gentleman that evening, and Dom had been the one to hurry out the door—but he didn't want Sean near Elijah.

"Yeah, Sean, this is Elijah Wood. Elijah, Sean Bean," Dom muttered hurriedly, pretending not to notice Sean's wide smile as he shook Elijah's hand.

"You're a beautiful dancer, Mr. Wood," Sean complimented, and Dom could feel Elijah's blush without even looking.

"Thank you, sir," Elijah mumbled, and Dom felt his blood boil.

"Elijah, could you do me a favour?" he interrupted hurriedly.

"Yeah, sure. Whatcha need, 'Sblomie?"

Dom allowed himself a small smile at the nickname and the way Elijah's attention instantly turned back to Dom. "I just need a minute with Mr. Bean. Could you grab me a plate? You know what I like."

"Oh, sure." Elijah gave Dom a questioning look, but Dom just stared back, trying to communicate 'later.' Elijah apparently got the message, and scurried off to the food table.

"Do I detect a bit of jealousy there, Mr. Monaghan?" Sean's arm slipped around Dom's waist, his voice gravelly in Dom's ear, and Dom felt inexplicably trapped.

"Jealousy? Of course not," Dom objected weakly.

"There's plenty of me to go around, Dominic." Dom closed his eyes against the sexy whisper that would have made him weak in the knees two weeks earlier, but now just made him physically ill. He knew he was fabricating much of his distaste for Sean, but he didn't like the way Sean did things. He didn't need direct, didn't need businesslike, didn't need fuck 'em and leave 'em. He played the game, sure, but now Dom wanted to pull out. Dom wanted shy, bumbling, affectionate. He put on his best neutral look and turned his face up towards Sean's.

"I'm sure there is, Sean. I've got work to do tonight, however, so…"

"Of course, love. I understand. Let me give you my card." Sean left Dom with a wink and a business card slipped into Dom's front trousers pocket, and Dom watched him head off to mingle with the other patrons before quickly searching out the room for Elijah.

"Dommie, are you all right?" Dom jumped at the hand on his shoulder, and then shook it off, turning and accepting a plate piled with his favourites.

"Yeah, Elijah, I'm fine."

"No you're not. You're jumpy. Business can wait for two seconds, come on."

Dom sighed and let himself be led off to one of the back staircases, up towards the upper level seating where no one would be at this hour. He sat down on the step, back to the wall, facing Elijah, and took a bite of pineapple.

"Okay, now tell me who that guy was. Former lover?"

"Former one night stand," Dom corrected. "It was a dumb idea."

Elijah smiled supportively, squeezing Dom's knee. "We all have our dumb ideas, 'Sblom. Especially you." Dom stuck his tongue out at Elijah, who just smiled back at him. In the dim light of the stairwell, Dom noted the juxtaposition of rubied lips and close-cropped hair, almost obscene in its beauty. "So what then, was he bad in bed?"

Dom frowned, and shook his head. "Not exactly. I mean, he was pretty decent. Just not what I want right now."

"Yeah? So what do you want?"

"I don't know… I guess someone less… direct? I don't want to feel like the pawn in a business scheme, you know? I don't want to set up clauses before I fall into bed with someone. Maybe I'm too hopeful, but it's nice to have some hope, whether you're looking or not, that the man you're sleeping with might lead to some second dates."

"Fair enough. He seemed to be interested in one from you, though."

Dom shrugged. "I guess, yeah. I don't want to spend another night having sex while the man whose fucking me isn't the one bringing me to orgasm, though," he explained bluntly. Elijah frowned.

"What, you mean you were thinking of someone else?"

Shit. "Yeah," Dom admitted, hoping Elijah would drop it.

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that…"

"Dommie, of course you can. What do you think I'm going to be jealous? It's fine," Elijah insisted with a smile, squeezing the same knee again. "You can tell me."

"Wait, what? Jealous?"

"Yeah, I mean, because you're thinking of someone else. It's okay. I know how it is between us; you know that. I was thinking maybe you hadn't been telling me about the people you've had sex with because you didn't want to hurt my feelings or deflate my childish crush. But it's fine, Dommie. I've learned to live with that," Elijah explained with an encouraging smile.

Dom stared, not really believing what he was hearing. "I haven't had sex with anyone other than Sean since you got here," Dom admitted in a mumble, and he hadn't realized it until now, but it was true. He supposed it was because hanging out with Elijah kept him busy and happy, but now it seemed like it could be more. "You… you've always had a crush on me?"

"Of course, Dommie." Elijah smiled, then his smile faded to a frown. "Wait, you didn't _know_? Oh my God…"

"What? Of course I didn't know! You never told me, did you?"

"Well, no, but I dropped enough hints," Elijah replied, sliding backwards slightly on the step. "Don't you remember how excited I was when you let me move in? How nervous I was when I first met you?"

"That was because…? Oh my God," Dom muttered.

Elijah frowned again, and backed up a bit more. "I'm sorry, maybe I should just…"

"No." Dom reached out to grab Elijah's wrist, stopped him from getting up. "No, please, don't go. You have to answer something for me. Are you still… interested in me, Elijah?"

"I…" Elijah's eyes lowered. "I can't…"

"It's fine, Elwood," Dom cut in with a warm smile, though his heart was breaking just a bit on the inside. "You don't hurt my fragile ego all that much. I'll recover…"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I'm still interested in you. I'm sorry. It's just… I've never had a best friend like you, and I thought it would go away, but it just gets stronger, and…"

Dom grinned so widely he thought his face was going to break, and scrambled forward on the step, crawling almost into Elijah's lap and apparently scaring the young man half to death. "It was you, 'Lijah. I was thinking about you. Your dancing, and your smile, and…" Dom paused, reaching out to brush Elijah's cheek with his thumb, as if confirming that he were real. "You, 'Lijah. I tried to stop, but, now it's like an addiction, and you're just so beautiful, and so _real_… not like Sean at all. And I know you. You'd take your time, and you'd make it good, and you'd actually care about me…"

As Dom spoke, Elijah's frown slowly spread into a grin, and before Dom could finish his monologue, Elijah threw his arms around him, nearly toppling them both down the stairs with only Dom's hands at his waist steadying them. "Oh my god, Dommie, you just made me so fucking _happy_!!" Dom grinned, and then grinned harder, right against Elijah's mouth, as the young man kissed him enthusiastically.

It was a bit sloppy, maybe, but their bodies fit together perfectly, twisted up on the stairs, and Elijah moved with him like that's what his body had been made for. Dom's tongue twisted with Elijah's, completely elated, until Elijah shifted atop him, inner thigh pressing against the outside of Dom's, and he felt the crinkle of stock paper in his pocket. Grinning, Dom pulled away from Elijah, putting a finger to his lips, and took in the rumpled, gorgeous, _happy_ appearance of his best mate.

"I need to do something, just… give me two tics. You'll be here, yeah? Don't move a single muscle." Elijah nodded, still smiling but confused, and Dom leaped to his feet, grinning, letting out a boyish whoop as he ran down the stairs. Elijah just sat in his place, shook his head, and giggled.

 

Later in the evening, with a confident smirk to himself, Sean reached into his front pocket and pulled out the card of paper that Dom had tucked in there earlier in the night. He didn't want to look at it right away, best to make the lad squirm a bit, but Sean knew what it would be—Dominic's number, and he intended to use it.

Sean stopped in his tracks with a frown, however, when he found his own card instead of Dom's, and a hastily scribbled message on the back.

_Sorry, love… you're a good man, but I'm assuming as a fellow Englishman you know the Beatles lyric? Fill in the blank: "You may be a lover, but…." I'm afraid the "beautiful dancer" and I decided to head home early. Best wishes, Dominic Monaghan_


End file.
